


Scavenger Hunt

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, I have never used the humor tag before in this fandom, Keith (Voltron) is So Done, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance (Voltron) is Good With Kids, Lance is a cool ninja sharpshooter, Space Mall (Voltron), Team Bonding, Team as Family, but he's secretly enjoying it, scavenger hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22590004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: The team has returned to the Space Mall but shopping isn’t what’s on Lance and Pidge’s minds. They’ve got something better planned: a scavenger hunt. It’s a battle of the stealthiest and Lance is the cool ninja sharpshooter so he’s got this in the bag. Right…?Plus a scavenger hunt for the readers too ;)
Relationships: Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 53
Kudos: 179





	Scavenger Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> If you are taking the time to read this fic **please** take the time to leave a comment. It's only a few moments (or a few minutes if you're feeling extremely kind) for you but I can guarantee it took the author far far longer to write the fic and hearing from readers means so much. Thank you.
> 
>  **Timeline notes:** later season two
> 
>  **Warning notes:** none

“We meet back here in an hour,” Shiro said, gesturing at the space mall entrance. “We’re not going to make a scene, we’re not adopting any more cows and we’re _not_ going to attract security.” His gaze lingered on Pidge and Lance and he received only wide, innocent eyes and a cheeky grin respectively that likely did nothing to reassure him.

“Go,” Shiro waved a hand, resignation clear but humor dancing in his eyes. “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

He and Keith turned pointedly in the opposite direction and Lance couldn’t blame them; if you didn’t see the crime you couldn’t do the time.

He looked down where Pidge was holding a matching sheet of paper, folded three times and sealed with Hunk’s request to not peek. 

“Okay,” Lance said, finger sliding beneath the first fold. “Remember, honor system in case some of these aren’t recordable.”

“Yes, yes,” Pidge tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m going to beat you fair and square.”

“That’s right you w— hey!”

Pidge smirked.

“Oh it’s on. Okay,” Lance’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at his phone for the time: 1302 hours, “on three we—”

“Three!” Pidge shrieked and before Lance could blink she was tearing open her sheet.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“First rule of a scavenger hunt, Lance,” Pidge grinned, light flashing ominously across her glasses. “There are no rules.”

And she took off down the nearest hallway.

“Gremlin,” Lance muttered fondly as he opened his own list.

His eyes widened as he scanned the list Hunk, laid up sick and forbidden from going shopping but wanting to still be a part of the fun, had written for them. 

At the very top, underlined and circled, were the directions for the game: **+10 points for every task completed. +10 points for every time you catch your opponent on camera doing a task. -15 points for every time you get caught.**

“Oh Pidgeon,” Lance whispered, tucking the list into his jacket pocket and looking in the direction she had gone. “You’re going _down.”_

**The List:**

  * Pose in a shop window for three minutes
  * High-five a security guard
  * Dance with a mannequin
  * Sing “Happy Birthday” to a shop worker
  * Perform a catwalk in a clothing store
  * Do the Macarena with Keith
  * Try on a dress and curtsy to everyone in that store
  * Convince someone give you a GAC for free (no fountains!)
  * Ride the mall carousel
  * Slurp a smoothie 
  * Get a temporary tattoo
  * Somersault down a hallway
  * Selfie with Shiro! 
  * Play hopscotch at the food court
  * (for readers: the fic is full of Easter Eggs to Icy’s VLD fics. Can you find them all?)



**1304 hours**

Lance ducked into the first shop he came to on his right — the opposite direction Pidge had taken off in — selling strange shaped hats and pairs of gaudy sunglasses and made his way up to the shopkeeper, a large blob-like alien with the intention to knock off a quick ‘happy birthday’ and be on his way so he could hunt down Pidge.

“Hello, my good alien,” Lance sent him his most charming smile.

What had to be at least twenty eyes blinked open at once all over the blob and Lance barely refrained from jumping backwards.

“Can…” the alien’s voice warbled. “Can I h-help you?”

A tear dribbled out of several of its eyes.

Lance frowned, the song dying on his tongue. 

“Um, is everything all right, man?” 

The alien shook its head. “I’m, I’m s-sorry. It’s just…” it let out a loud sniffle. “Today is my day of hatching and n-no one…” 

“Day of hatching…” Lance repeated slowly. His eyes widened. “So… like… your day of birth, right?”

The alien nodded.

“Well,” Lance grinned, “where I come from we have a whole song dedicated to days of hatching to celebrate. How about I sing it to you?”

“You’d… you’d do that? For m-me?”

“Of course. Come on,” Lance clapped a hand on a spot that didn’t seem to have eyeballs. “From the top.”

**1317 hours**

Lance knew he’d lost a lot of time but as fun as the scavenger hunt was and as bad as he wanted to beat Pidge, he’d rather be able to bring a smile to Sessalgnusdnastah's (he still had no idea how to really pronounce it but he’d done his best during multiple renditions of ‘happy birthday’) face because he hated to see anyone sad, especially on their birthday. 

But on the plus side, the alien had been so grateful Sessalgnusdnastah insisted Lance take a gift from the store, so now he was sporting an incredibly stylish sort of cowboy hat in neon green and purple and a pair of glasses tinted bright orange (apparently to watch some type of eclipse and Lance planned to gift them to Coran later) and they were so gaudy that it was the perfect camouflage.

It just meant now he had to really hustle to a; find Pidge b; accomplish what tasks he could along the way and c; _not get caught._

And, his eyes lit up, first target spotted.

Keith, sitting on a bench by the fountain and looking bored to death.

Oblivious to the danger he was about to be in.

Lance crept forward, ninja mode activated. Good practice for when he went after Pidge lat—

“What are you doing?” 

Lance froze.

Okay, Keith was not as oblivious as he seemed because Lance knew he was an awesome stealthy ninja sharpshooter.

Keith cracked open an eye. “If this is about the marimba thing—”

“Macarena,” Lance corrected. His eyes widened. “Wait. You know about that?”

“Pidge was here a few minutes ago asking me to do it with her. I’ll tell you the same thing.” Keith gave him the flattest expression Lance had ever seen. “No.”

“Keith—”

“No.”

“Pl—”

“No.”

“ _Por—”_

“No.”

“Fine,” Lance gave a dramatic sigh. “You leave me no choice.”

And his eyes started to well with tears.

Keith startled forward from his laid back sit. “Wait? Are you actually…?”

Lance’s lip wobbled.

“I’m not doing it, Lance,” Keith sat back, arms folded.

Lance hiccuped out a sob.

A few aliens looked their way. 

Keith twitched uncomfortably.

“Lance…”

Lance let out another sob.

“Are you actually…?”

More aliens were starting to look over, a few were murmuring.

“Fine!” Keith burst off the seat. “Just… just stop that.”

Lance immediately brightened. “Hey,” he turned to a bobcat like alien who had stopped, thrusting his phone at him. “Can you record this for me?”

Keith groaned.

Lance added ten points to his score.

**1335 hours**

Lance was making good progress if he did say so himself. He’d gotten a temporary tattoo — a Voltron symbol, he couldn’t believe it, in blue that he’d plastered on his wrist — somersaulted the length of a hallway and only knocked into two aliens (a couple out and about who had upon inquiring his species adorably mispronounced it hoo-man and declared him precious and thought he was so cute they’d given him a GAC when he’d told them about the scavenger hunt and hah, yes!), and slurped down a smoothie that had been called the flavor he’d pronounced as chiba-san-pelo-golfer and tasted like pineapple with caramel.

What he hadn’t yet seen though was Pidge.

He was on the carousel now — and the fact an alien space mall had a carousel was insane, even if instead of horses they had what looked like giant rabbits with their ears pulled back in a ponytail and all of them were carrying spears that he used as the handhold — and using the rotation to scout out for a certain tiny human. 

She _had_ to be somewhere. The mall, while large, wasn’t that big and only so many of the tasks could be done inside stores. Pidge _had_ to come out at some point and he would be ready for her.

And speak of the gremlin…

Pidge was crossing the food court, head bobbing.

She was playing hopscotch.

How _adorable._

He could catch her. He—

The carousel kept turning and Pidge disappeared.

Lance fumbled his phone out of his jacket pocket for when he came back around.

Anddddddd Pidge was gone.

Dang it. 

But!

Lance saw her, now clear of the food court and beelining for a store.

Namenta and Lorin’s Dresses For All Occasions.

Bingo. 

Lance had to wait two more rotations for the carousel to come to a halt and he scurried off it, pausing only to play a hopscotch game of his own across the tiled food court floor because hey, points were points, and then entered into the store.

He ducked quickly to the side, obscuring himself behind a rack of very poofy gowns.

So poofy, in fact that…

Grinning, Lance slipped one off the rack — a bright orange that would make Coran cry with happiness — and shimmied into it. A mirror was to his right and he struck a pose in front of it, tipping his cowboy hat and lowering his glasses, and snapped a selfie. He might look like an idiot… but he was a good looking idiot. 

And somewhat camouflaged now, Lance hiked up the poofy skirts and began to stroll through the aisles, falling into exaggerated curtsies to the few aliens he came across. It was go big or go home and Lance definitely wasn’t calling it quits. 

Where or where could Pidgeon be?

And, he smirked, what on earth would she be wearing? Something big and poofy? Plain? Sparkly? He clutched his phone tightly, camera already on. He would not miss this time.

And there she was.

And…

And she looked _pretty._

It’s not that Pidge wasn’t, Lance still flushed remembering how he’d commented on that photo he’d found of her when he’d assumed Pidge was who he learned now was Matt. But she stomped around in shapeless clothes and didn’t do anything with her hair and Lance sometimes feared she didn’t brush her teeth. 

And she was still stomping here and her shorts were visible under the flared hem of the light green dress she’d selected although she’d removed her top, the straps of her camisole visible, and had it slung over her arm, but unlike him she looked less like she was playing dress up and more like… like it fit.

But…

She wasn’t curtsying.

Lance clucked his tongue even as he snapped a few photos of her practically marching through the aisles, ducking into a rack so she missed him.

It was there he shot off a quick text.

_You’re not curtsying._

He heard her phone beep and she paused mid-step, retrieving it from her shorts.

Her head jerked up so fast he winced in sympathy.

He shot another text.

_That looked like it hurt._

“Where are you?” she demanded loudly, turning in a circle. 

Lance remained safely hidden inside of the dress rack. 

“Lance, get out here.”

He didn’t so much as twitch.

“Face me, you coward!”

“Miss, please,” a shop associate came scurrying over. “Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Yeah,” Pidge scowled, thumbing through her phone and no doubt pulling up a photo of him. “You can find me this asshole.”

Lance took that as his signal to retreat.

He did so successfully, even hanging up the dress although on a different rack, and strolled out of the store whistling.

He was at one hundred points now, assuming Pidge hadn’t caught him doing anything, and they had fourteen minutes left.

That was enough time to go take out one or two more tasks — he was feeling a catwalk, maybe could pose in a shop window although given how riled Pidge was at the moment perhaps not the safest but still safer than high-fiving Varkon what had Hunk been thinking? — and maybe wrap it up with a selfie with Shiro if he could catch him before they reached the rendezvous.

He had this in the bag. 

And then he heard crying.

It wasn’t his dramatics of earlier or the sound of a spoiled brat.

This sounded real. Scared. Hurt.

Lance cast his eyes about the crowded thoroughfare.

They landed on a small alien — sort of looking like a cross between a polar bear and a bunny rabbit but of the latter’s size — curled up next to a potted space tree.

Lance’s eyes widened.

Not a small alien.

A _child._

And there was no fellow fluffy white parent alien in sight. 

Lance sidestepped easily through the crowd, none of who were paying the crying child any mind, and crouched down.

“Hey there,” he kept his voice soft but the alien still jerked its head up, revealing large brown eyes and a tiny hairbow tied around one of likely her ears. 

She didn’t say anything, just staring up at him although her sniffles were quieting.

“Are you lost?” Lance asked gently.

A tiny nod. “I… I can’t find my mami,” she hiccuped. 

“How about I help you find her?” Lance said, holding out his hand. 

The little alien didn’t even hesitate as she slipped a small, soft paw into Lance’s hand.

“I’m Lance,” he introduced himself, slowly straightening up.

“Alara,” she whispered.

“Alara?” Lance confirmed. “That’s such a pretty name. Now, Alara, where did you last see your mami?”

“We… we were dress shopping. Mami was trying on so many dresses and I got bored and I…”

Even beneath her white fur Lance could tell she was blushing. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. 

“It’s all right,” Lance gave her paw a squeeze. “What’s important is you’re okay. And that you don’t leave your mami in the future. All right?”

A nod.

“Good girl. Now, let’s go this way. I have a guess as to where we’ll find your mami.”

Because in all of Lance’s wanderings of the space mall there was only one dress shop. 

And it was the one a very stormy looking Pidge was coming out of. 

She caught sight of Lance right away, eyes narrowing dangerously, but they tracked down his extended arm to Alara and confusion with a hint of concern took over. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Alara,” Lance knelt down again as Alara was inching behind his leg, “this is my friend Pidge. Pidge, this is Alara.” He looked up at Pidge. “We’re looking for her mom.”

Pidge crouched down too — not that it did all that much, Lance hid a grin — and gave a softer smile than he was used to seeing on her. “Can I—?”

“Alara!”

The loud cry had all three of them looking up as an alien — not even half a foot taller than Alara although with fur in soft creams instead of pure white— came running out of the store followed by a security guard — not Varkon, Lance noted with relief, although still a Galran.

“Mami!”

Lance let Alara’s hand go as she sprang forward into her mother’s arms.

Lance looked at the scene fondly while Pidge looked stricken next to him.

“I saw her in the store,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize… I was so focused on the game that I…I didn’t even think… I thought she was shoplifting and gotten caught,” she trailed off miserably.

Lance reached over and gave Pidge’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“Excuse me,” the security guard — dressed in full armor but still somehow looking friendlier than their former run in with a mall cop although there was distrust on his face as he eyed Lance. “You were with the child?”

Lance realized what it might look like and he held up his hands placatingly. “I—”

“Lance helped me,” Alara chirped from where she was still cuddled into her mom’s arms. “I… I got lost and…”

And just like that the tension bled out of both of the adult aliens.

“Well, then,” the guard straightened and gave a nod at Lance. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Yes, thank you,” Alara’s mom echoed. “I, I cannot imagine what could have…” her arms tightened around her daughter. “Thank you so much.”

Lance rubbed the back of his head. “No thanks needed, ma’am. Just happy to help.”

The security guard was peering at them closer now and Lance swallowed because he would not doubt the security office had their photos plastered all over; it was sort of hard to forget a flying cow chase.

“Anddd we’ve got to get going,” he grabbed hold of Pidge’s arm. “Bye Alara, be good now. Bye Alara’s mami. Bye good guy Galra guard I’m gonna call Grape since grapes are sweet and nice like you are too I’m sure, bye bye,” and he didn’t run, absolutely not, but their walk was more than quick and Pidge’s little legs struggled to keep up next to him.

They rounded the corner.

Met each other’s eyes.

“Run?” Pidge suggested.

Lance heard a security whistle.

“Run,” he agreed.

And they ran. 

Down the hallway.

Across the food court.

Up the escalator, smashing into a rooster-like alien and a group of toad ones with shouted apologies.

Past the fountain.

And past the bench at the entrance where Shiro and Keith were waiting.

“Oh come on,” he faintly heard Keith moan. 

They kept up their run until they reached the supply shuttle they’d come to the mall in, Pidge hunched over and gasping while Lance held the stitch in his side. 

“S-so,” Pidge managed as they waited for Keith and Shiro — not sprinting because _they_ were not the ones being chased — “who won?”

“Um…” Lance tried to tally up his points again. “I had—”

“You won,” Pidge interrupted him with a nod of her head. Her expression was soft and Lance understood.

“Good game, Pidgeon,” he smiled.

“Rematch?”

“No,” Shiro’s voice cut from behind them. “No rematches. No more scavenger hunts. No more chases and security guards and—”

“Shiro, no, please, we really didn’t—” Pidge tried to protest.

“Unless I’m playing too,” Shiro continued, his lips turning up with a mischievous quirk. “Understand?”

“Hell yeah!” Pidge cheered, Shiro’s reprimand of ‘language’ drowned out along with Keith’s groan and thump his head made as he thunked it on the shuttle. 

Lance just grinned.

He couldn’t wait to tell Hunk all about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic request for Lance and Pidge getting into shenanigans at the Space Mall. Very different from my usual fare but I actually used to be known for my humor fics ;p (kind of scary, isn't it?)
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **_Please_ don’t just read and run! Leave a comment! Thank you!** Also, let us know how many Easter Eggs you spotted! (hint: there are 12!)


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